


Throne of Glass x Outlander Crossover

by iwritecrossovers



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Aelin - Freeform, Assassin - Freeform, Celaena Sardothien - Freeform, Crossover, Diana Gabaldon, Gen, Jamie Fraser - Freeform, Sarah J Maas, Scotland, Spoilers for Book 1: Throne of Glass, Young Jamie Fraser, aelin ashryver galathynius - Freeform, aelinashryvergalathynius, celaena - Freeform, celaenasardothien, clairefraser, dianagabaldon, dougalmackenzie, jamiefraser, jamiemactavish, magicstones, rowanwhitethorn, sarahjmaas, sassy celaena, stones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritecrossovers/pseuds/iwritecrossovers
Summary: What happens when infamous assassin Celaena Sardothien finds herself trapped in 18th century Scotland? Follow Celaena's adventures as she travels through the stones and happens upon a certain gallant, stubborn, red-haired Scot that we all know and love.DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Sarah J Maas (author of Throne of Glass) and Diana Gabaldon (author of the Outlander series).Note: I literally just finished Outlander and all I could think about the whole time was how Celaena would react to everything so I decided to write this for fun just to see Celaena (and other TOG characters) interact with some of the Outlander characters.
Kudos: 7
Collections: Throne Of Glass





	Throne of Glass x Outlander Crossover

When Celaena awoke, she immediately had the sense that something wasn’t right. She shook her head to clear it, and then looked around at her surroundings. She was again in a forest, surrounded by a henge of massive stones, but something was off. These trees, while similar to the ones of the Oakwald forest, were different--not quite as prominent, and certainly not as old. And the stones that surrounded her had changed, too: they were all as oddly formed, but they sat at different heights than the ones that she had marked in Oakwald.

Celaena knew, deep down, that she was not in Terrasen anymore.

Rising from the dirt, Celaena rubbed her backside and grunted at the lingering soreness there from her fall. She placed a gloved palm on the tallest stone, and looked it up and down. After deciding that there was nothing out of the ordinary with it, and that whatever strange, magical pull had called to her before was gone, she took a step back and turned about. While she had realized that she was no longer in her home country anymore, she still had yet to puzzle out where she’d landed herself. She stalked to a tall, nearby tree with notably wide branches, and, deciding that she needed to get a better look around, began to climb.

As she hauled herself up the branches, Celaena thought back to what on earth could’ve happened to cause her to take a tumble in one forest, and recover only to find herself in another. She recalled the details just before she fell-- a strange, muted shriek coming from the henge, the metallic scent of magic in the air, and the strange pull she’d felt to the tallest stone in the circle. How she’d felt a strange push on her back that caused her to go stumbling towards it, hands outstretched, and then whatever force had then knocked her hard on her arse the second her palms touched the hard, cold surface. 

It made no sense, and Celaena pushed away the puzzle of the stones in order to better focus on the problem at hand: her current whereabouts. After several minutes of ascent, Celaena finally was able to see over the treeline, and let out a soft exhale at the sight that lay before her. 

The forest stretched on for miles in all directions, as far as her sharp eyes could see, and the trees were splashed in a soft orange as the sun slowly began its descent towards the horizon. The forest was clearly young--much younger than the Oakwald--and the cheerful green of the leaves looked exquisite bathed in the colors of sunset. Once she finished admiring the view, Celaena clung to the trunk and turned about in her spot on the tree, searching for any signs of life or movement of any kind. Minutes past, and she huffed a sigh of frustration when her senses were met with nothing but more trees and the sounds of the crickets’ chorus as the afternoon changed to evening.

Swearing under her breath, Celaena turned to begin her climb back down to the ground when her ears picked up on the distant, but unmistakable clopping sound of horse hooves, and the rattle of reins. She paused and peered out over the tree coverage, searching for the location of the approaching horse, and, hopefully, the people that accompanied it. 

If it weren’t for her well-trained eyes and ears, Celaena would not have been able to pick up on the flickering, metallic glint that was travelling slowly north, vanishing and reappearing once again as it moved between the trees. There, Celaena thought, and watched the flash of bronze travel for a few seconds as she devised a plan in her head.

A friendly approach, Celaena decided, would be the most useful strategy if she did intend to extract any information from the strangers. Silently, she began climbing back down the tree, careful not to reveal herself. She dropped noiselessly to the ground, and began to track the approaching party by sound alone. 

She crept slowly in its general direction, until she came upon a quaint little road about a hundred or so yards from the stones. She positioned herself behind a tree that lay a couple yards from the road, and hid there until the horse in question and its rider came into view.

“Party” was a bit of an overstatement. It was just one man and his horse, with two bags strapped to either side of the saddle. The horse looked to be a fine, black stallion, which trotted happily along without a care in the world. It’s rider, by contrast, was a large, fair man with a wild mop of red hair that flickered gaily as it caught in the sun. Celaena chuckled silently to herself, realizing that it wasn’t a flash of metal, but rather the lad’s hair in the light that had drawn her attention to their location.

She studied the rider carefully from her spot behind the tree, absorbing as many details as possible while he passed. He was heavily armed, with several blades strapped to his person, not including the broadsword dangling from his hip, which signaled that he might be a warrior, or at least knew how to handle a blade. Aside from this, he was also dressed in a very odd fashion. 

Though he wore a simple tunic, it was partially covered by an odd, forest-colored blanket that he wore strapped across his front like a sash. Attached to it was a small brooch, although Celaena could not make out any of its details at such a distance. Despite this, what truly made the ensemble so strange was the item he wore on the lower half of his body-- a plaid, pleated skirt that fell to just above his knees, which perfectly matched the blanket with the brooch.

Celaena frowned disapprovingly at the rider’s attire, thinking of both its lack of taste and practicality. It must be a cultural dress, she decided, and continued her examination of the fellow.

The bags at his side were stuffed to the brim, and Celaena’s eyes snagged greedily as the young man reached into one of the satchels and extracted what looked to be a flat, circular bit of bread. The sight must have triggered her appetite, because the next thing she knew, she felt a sudden bout of hunger gnawing at her stomach. Perhaps she could ask the fellow for some food, she thought to herself. Then again, there was always the chance that he could say no. 

The stranger cantered on as Celaena internally struggled over her next move. While her original plan was to be friendly in order to gain information, she was well aware that there were other ways of extracting knowledge from people, unpleasantness aside. In the end, the side of her that prioritized dinner won out, and she decided that she’d pounce on him unawares. She was mindful of her boundaries when it came to physical fights, and going up against only one opponent, even one as large as this one, wasn’t likely to be much competition for her. 

She began to move then, tailing from a short distance behind until the forest was dense enough that she could dart from tree to tree without being seen as she sidled closer to the rider. Even with the leaves and shrubbery on the ground, Celaena was as stealthy and as noiseless as a wraith as she moved closer to her target. She was doing quite well at not making a sound, even by her standards, when the silence was broken by a very sudden and very loud rumbling of her stomach. Celaena immediately pressed herself behind a tree, silently cursing her appetite, and the horse gave a soft whine and stirred from it’s trot. 

She heard, more than saw, the rider halt his mount and begin murmuring softly to the horse. There was a moment of silence, and then Celaena heard the rider slide out of the saddle and onto the ground. There was the slow, controlled shink of a blade being unsheathed, and then the footfalls of the man as he searched his surroundings for any signs of a surprise visitor. 

Celaena cursed again, realizing that if she still wanted to achieve any semblance of a surprise attack, her current position was too far off the road. Knowing what she had to do, she eyed another tree, this one right at the edge of the road, and marked the path her feet would have to take so as to remain soundless. Not daring to peek out and see if her target was facing her direction, Celaena leapt quickly from her current spot to her new one. The steady pattern of footsteps from the rider didn’t change as she assumed her new spot behind the tree, which indicated that he hadn’t, in fact, seen her move. After releasing a long, steadying breath, Celaena pulled her cloak over her head, secured her mask over her face, gripping the two daggers that she had strapped to her thighs. 

Three, she began counting, preparing herself to pounce. Two… One. Celaena lunged out from behind the tree, poised to attack, when she was stopped short by a blade held to her throat. 

“I’ll have to give ye points for stealth,” the red-haired rider said with a strange sort of lilt, his amused eyes peering curiously into her masked face. “I havna come across a highwayman who moved so silently in all my days.” 

Celaena paused a moment to take in the young, sanguine face of the bronze-haired rider, who could not have been a day past twenty-five, before bringing her daggers up to attack. Swift as an asp, Celaena brought one of her blades up to protect her throat from being cut, and swept the other out to catch the rider in the side. It wouldn’t have been a fatal blow, but certainly painful enough to disarm him. Luckily for him, the young man leapt out of range at the last second, and her right blade sliced through air alone. 

The jolly air that the rider had inhabited in those first moments promptly vanished as he drew his sword with his left hand, his knife still clutched in his right. He barely had time to get himself into position before Celaena pounced on him again, their weapons meeting as he blocked her blows, and the two of them fell into a dance of sorts as they circled each other and their weapons clashed. 

At one point, their left-handed blades collided, and he threw his weight into it. Celaena took advantage of the situation, letting her own blade slip as she went diving for his feet. She swiftly knocked him off of his feet, and he went sprawling. Celaena was immediately on top of him, fighting to get control of his wrists and pin him to the ground. 

“That wasn’t verra gallant,” he panted, fighting Celaena’s grip on him. He continued to squirm beneath her hold, and she threw a solid fist out that caught him in the cheekbone. He groaned, going still, and Celaena grinned beneath her mask. She withdrew a hand to pull a length of rope from her belt, but the movement cost her. The rider flipped her then, taking her dagger from her, and used it to knock the other from her grip. 

She struggled beneath him, trying to get free, but soon realized that she was hopelessly outweighed by the gigantic young man. She immediately stopped struggling, and the young man sat on top of her, examining the dagger he’d taken from her with interest. Then, before Celaena could anticipate his next move, he brought the blade to her cheekbone and created a long, horizontal gash on her face. Celaena cried out, tears welling in her eyes.

“That’s fair,” she gasped. The young man’s eyes suddenly grew round with surprise, and he drew the blade away from Celaena’s face, though he remained pinning her to the ground. 

“Are you…” he said, his gaze narrowing in suspicion, and then he ripped the hood of Celaena’s cloak back to reveal her blonde, braided tangle of hair. “Yer a woman!” He said it with so much astonishment that she couldn’t help but snort at his shock. He then snatched back the mask from Celaena’s face as well, as if to confirm this realization.

“Well, aren’t you observant,” Celaena said sardonically. The young rider tilted his head, as if in wonder, and his slanted, blue eyes roamed across her face, taking in the details of her appearance. This went on for several seconds until Celaena raised an eyebrow.

“Enjoying the view?” she said, and the young man’s ears and cheeks went pink. He recovered himself quickly, and when he spoke again, his voice was gruff.  
“What are ye--some sort of forest druid? Ye canna be a fairy; too large,” he said, eyes narrowing. Celaena eyed him curiously, but kept her mouth shut. “Well?” he demanded. It was Celaena’s turn for her eyes to widen, and then she burst out laughing. 

The rider clearly did not find the situation quite as funny as Celaena did. “This is no time for humor, lass. I ne’er met a woman who kens how to handle a full-sized dirk properly, let alone two. An’ I saw the way you moved swift through the trees,” His eyes then drifted to a spot on the ground beside where Celaena’s head lied, and he grew thoughtful. “Unless…” he began, but trailed off.

Finally having regained control over herself, Celaena responded. “Oh, I see. I’m a woman, so how on earth am I able to fight as well as, or likely better than yourself?” Celaena snorted. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but as it turns out, women can fight as well as any man… provided she has the proper training.”  
The man drew his brows together. “You’re sayin’ someone trained ye, then?”

Celaena smiled broadly, and slowly began sliding one of her hands toward her waist. “How else am I supposed to learn to fight?” she said, and the young man sat back. 

“Ye aren’t. Learnin’ to protect yourself is one thing, but the battlefield is no place for a woman,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Right,” Celaena sighed. “Well, as much as I’d like to stay and debate women's rights with you…” The rider caught the movement of Celaena’s hand only a second too late. He hadn’t any time to stop her before she’d drawn another, tiny blade, and pressed it to the spot at the top of the man’s thighs. He froze, not daring to move. Celaena slowly sat up, glanced at the blade in her hand, and snorted. 

“For someone who doesn’t think women can fight, you’ve certainly overlooked the disadvantages of your own sex,” she said, eyeing her knife as she picked up her fallen dagger with her free hand. Pushing herself into a sitting position, she kept her hand poised above the rider’s pants as she shook a few stray hairs out of her face. 

“Right. So here’s how this is gonna go,” Celaena began as she wiggled free of her captor’s weight. “I’m gonna ask you some questions. If you lie to me, then I’ll kill you. If you tell me the truth, I’ll let you live.” Celaena simultaneously moved the smaller blade away from the rider’s groin, and pressed her dirk against the rider’s bare throat. Careful not to draw blood, she hauled the man to his feet, and drove him backwards into a tree. 

“In fact,” she continued as she pinned him to the trunk, and pulled the rope once again out of her coat, “I might even be in a good enough mood to let you keep your horse.”

The rider snorted. “Good luck wi’ that. He’s all yours, if ye can come within three feet of the beast without losing a hand.” Celaena frowned, and she glanced briefly back at the horse. The rider, who was apparently not in the mood to be tied up and robbed, used the distraction to grab Celaena by the waist with one hand, and the rope with the other. Celaena, however, anticipated this, and immediately brought up her palm to strike the young man in the forehead, causing his head to crack back against the tree. He groaned, and Celaena clicked her tongue.

“That was rude,” Celaena chided, which made the rider elicit a single, vicious laugh in response. Celaena moved quickly, first tying his wrists together, then tossing the rope over the branch to bring his arms up above his head. She swiftly finished the job, examined her work, and smiled. 

“That’ll do,” she said cheerfully, and patted her murderous-looking captive on the chest. She headed over to the horse, who snorted and whinnied as Celaena drew closer. Looking the black-haired beast in the eye, she smiled grimly. 

“He’s a fine horse,” she said appreciatively, examining the animal. “Where’d you get him?” Celaena asked idly, hoping that his answer might help her pinpoint their location.

“He’s my uncle’s. Donas is his name,” the rider said, and she strode towards the bags attached to the saddle. “Hey--what are ye doin’?” the rider demanded as Celaena began rifling through one of the bags, extracting bits of food and stuffing her face as she went.

“Mm guh dmmm,” Celaena said, her mouth full of bread. 

“Ha?”

“‘M havin’ dinner,” Celaena said around a mouthful, once she’d swallowed enough to speak. The rider, looking outraged at the idea of his food being stolen, opened his mouth to protest some more, but then seemed to think the better of it and pressed his lips together. He watched her stuff her face with his food for a moment before speaking, growing slightly worried when she didn’t pause for air between bites.

“Christ, lass,” he said, watching in awe as Celaena dug into a strip of dried meat. “When was the last time ye ate anything?” At that, Celaena paused and squinted her eyes as though to draw up the memory, and then shrugged and went on eating. She’d had an apple for breakfast, and then had left to train, expecting to be home by lunch. So much for that plan.

“Take a breath, woman. Food’s not gonna sprout legs and wander away, if that’s what you're worried about,” he said, trying and failing to suppress an amused smile as his young captor greedily searched his bag for second helpings. “If ye keep shovin’ bannocks down your gullet like that, you’re likely to choke. And as ye have me roped to a tree, I wouldna be able to help you much in the situation.” Celaena turned around, food still in hand, and finally let herself have a good look at the young rider that she’d ensnared.

The first thing that jumped out at her about the young man’s appearance, other than his flaming hair, was his size. The man was huge, plainly stated. She hardly ever went up against someone so much bigger than her, and when she did, she could typically rely on her own speed to outmatch them. The rider, however, clearly did not let his size slow him down.

“You’re awfully fast for someone so big,” Celaena observed aloud before taking another bite.

The rider dipped his coppery head. “Aye. I was told early on that if I didna learn to manage my size, I’d hardly stand a chance in battle. When I was younger, my uncle would spend hours, sometimes, chasing me through the forest. He’d be armed, too, with a dirk or even a sword belt.” He looked off into the trees, as if bringing to mind the memory of running through the woods, and snorted. “Believe me--being hunted by that man, even just to train, certainly taught you to never be sluggish.”

Celaena smiled. “One of my trainers did something similar with me,” Celaena recalled, thinking of Rowan. He never chased her with the intention of actually hurting her, though. It sounded too wild, even for him. Celaena’s eyes flitted to the man’s outfit as she continued to munch on her dinner, and she wondered what sort of savage training was used by men who wore skirts. 

“What are you, then?” the rider pushed. “If not a fairy, or a witch? Some kind o’ lone highwayman--woman?”

“I--” Celaena began, but stopped abruptly, holding up a finger. She clutched her stomach, and released a mighty belch. “--am full,” she finished, and blew out a breath of air.

Despite himself, the rider grinned wickedly. “Certainly no a lady, I see,” he said, watching Celaena stuff the remainder of the food back into the satchel. 

“But you already knew that,” she said, and returned his sly smile with a grin of her own.

“Weel, if you’ll no tell me what ye are, can I at least receive the courtesy of knowin’ your name?” 

She toyed with the idea for a moment, wondering what answer she might give. If she gave the man an alias, he’d have no clue who she really is. But if she told him that she was Celaena, there was a chance, depending on their location, that he might know who she is. Telling him was a risk, but she had to know just how far from home she was.

“Celaena,” she said, turning to face him, and looked him dead in the eye. “Celaena Sardothien.”

She wasn’t sure what reaction she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the rider saying “Celaena?” as he cringed noticeably. “What an awful name for a lass,” he said. She raised her brows challengingly at him. Observing the man’s peculiar dress and accent, Celaena decided that there was little chance of him having anything but a matching, equally ludicrous name. “Oh, yeah? And what’s yours?”

“James,” the rider said, cocking his head to the side. Then he seemed to reconsider, and said, “Well, my given name is James, but I go by Jamie.”

“James--Jamie?” she said, looking surprised. The young fellow grinned broadly up at her. “A braw name, is it not? Named after a cousin on my mother’s side.”

Celaena regarded him studiously for a moment. “Well, it’s certainly not a bad name, Jamie, although I have to say, I was expecting something a little more…” Celaena trailed off, but Jamie understood her well enough. “...A little more?” he finished for her. “Aye. I s’pose an outlander such as yerself doesna expect much normalcy up here in the Highlands.”

The Highlands. The highlands of where? Celaena has never heard of such a place before. Tired of dancing around the subject in hopes of not rousing suspicion, Celaena decided to get right to the point.

“The Highlands?” she repeated. 

“Aye. We dinna get much visiting folk up here, but when we do, they never ken much about our lifestyle, other than that we’re mud-covered barbarians who wear kilts.”

“Kilts?” Celaena questioned further. 

“Mphmm,” Jamie confirmed, touching his knee-length garment. So that’s what the skirts were called.

The sudden flicker of understanding must have shown on Celaena’s face, because the suspicion promptly returned to Jamie’s face.

“Where are ye from, lass?” he asked slowly, but Celaena turned away.

“That's none of your concern,” she said curtly. Jamie huffed a laugh, and went on. “None of my concern? You’ve beaten me and tied me up and stolen my food. The least you could do is tell me where you come from. You’ve a bit of a proper accent--is it England, then?”

Celaena ground her teeth in frustration, having no idea what or where England was. “I said don’t worry about it. Now,” she said, turning back to him and raising her dagger so it flashed wickedly in the sun. “As for those questions I mentioned earlier.”

Jamie stiffened noticeably, and a small muscle began twitching in his jaw. She approached him, twirling the knife showily in her hand, and examined him as though deciding which part of him to carve up first. Her little spectacle must have worked, because Jamie gulped audibly at the sight of her approach and shifted against the tree. Celaena kept playing with her weapon as she mulled over how best to ask about their location without giving away how lost she was. She wouldn’t give the young man any sort of advantage over her--especially not one of knowledge. She opened her mouth to begin with the interrogation when a faint blast sounded from far away, and took Celaena by surprise. She instinctively turned towards the sound, leaving her back to Jamie. 

Celaena whirled back to face him after hearing a loud crack coming from where he was tied, but she was too late. He had gotten free from his bonds, and seized Celaena’s hands with both of his, emitting a pained grunt at the contact. Upon seeing his hand, Celaena immediately understood why. His pinkie and ring finger stuck out at a crooked angle, protruding unnaturally sideways and already an unnatural shade of red, purple, and blue. The bastard had broken his own fingers to get free, and now was rapidly forcing the ropes around Celaena’s own hands. She tried to struggle against his hold, but she was too late, and he was too strong. Even with broken fingers, Celaena could not escape the death grip that Jamie had on her wrists.

“Much better,” Jamie said with satisfaction as he finished restraining her wrists. He then untied the rope from the tree, and began knotting it to the saddle. Celaena wrenched away as hard as she could, throwing her entire body weight into the effort, but was unsuccessful in freeing herself. Jamie promptly strode over to her, and Celaena instinctively prepared herself to block the blows she knew he was going to lay on her. Recognizing the look on Celaena’s face, Jamie pursed his lips.

“I dinna hit women,” he said bluntly, and yanked the dirks from her belt. 

“Even when they fight and burgle you?” Celaena said as he began to pat her down, searching for any more hidden weapons. Jamie paused.

“What, you don’t want me to hit you, do ye?” he asked her seriously. When Celaena didn’t reply immediately, Jamie continued his inspection of her person. “It doesna matter. A girl is a girl, whether she knows how to handle a dirk or no. My God, where did you get such a foolish outfit?” 

Appalled, Celaena drew back to look at him. “Foolish?!” she exclaimed, looking down at her assassin’s suit. “This suit costs more than your life--and your stupid horse. Put together!”

Donas threw back his head and snorted as if protesting the insult. Jamie smiled darkly. “Careful,” he warned her. “Anger Donas and he’ll likely trample you.”

Celaena huffed, clearly not at all shaken by the warning. “I’d probably rather get trampled by a horse than whatever the hell you’re about to do to me.”

Jamie made an impatient noise, clearly growing annoyed. “I already said that I have no plans to harm ye.”

“Then what are you planning to do?” Celaena said, becoming slightly irritated herself. Jamie moved to his bags, where he fished out the piece of half-eaten bread that Celaena had taken several bites out of. He examined the large bites, wrinkled his nose, and tossed it over his shoulder. He then disposed of her weapons neatly inside the saddlebags, and then stalked back over to where Celaena stood, doing her best to look unbothered by her situation.

“One chance,” Jamie said to her in a low, dangerous voice, his face uncomfortably close to her own. “You have one chance to give me a reason why I shouldn’t bring ye back to Leoch with me.”

Celaena knit her brows. “Leoch? What’s that, some sort of dungeon, hmm? Your personal torture chamber?”

Jamie shook his head. “It’s my home, as of now,” he said shortly. When Celaena’s face didn’t change, he elaborated. “Castle Leoch is the Laird Mackenzie’s home. And it is my home, as of the moment, and so I will be welcomed, but you…” Jamie trailed off, giving Celaena a dark look. “It willna be so pleasant for you, since ye just tried to harm me and rob me of my uncle’s horse. So I ask ye now--give me a single reason why I should let you go instead of bringing ye back wi’ me.”

The bewildered look on Celaena’s face grew even more pronounced. “Because…” She began, not sure what to tell him. “...because I’m a woman?”

Jamie stared hard at her for a few moments, and then let out a breath through his nose. Dropping his head in resignation, he hoisted himself up on the saddle, and clicked his tongue at Donas. 

“Come on,” he called back to Celaena, and as the horse began to walk, Celaena was yanked forward by the rope that kept her tied to the saddle. “If we keep a steady pace, we’ll make it back to Leoch by nightfall.”


End file.
